Exile Vilify
by T Stark
Summary: In an attempt to rehabilitate his brother, Thor sends Loki to Earth in hopes that living there will change his outlook on mortals. Now, Loki must live in an unfamiliar world, and continue to struggle with the past which still haunts him. But maybe that woman can help...
1. Prologue: The Punishment

**Woo! It's finally being published! Been working pretty hard on this one~**

**So, just to clear stuff up, "Exile Vilify" is the name of a song by The National, written for the video game Portal 2. I just love the song, and it fit so well, I had to use it. ^.^**

* * *

"Are you quite satisfied? Has your pathetic mind taken pleasure in the knowledge of what your brash actions have caused?"

No response.

"I want you to tell me," Thor's voice echoed with a furious intensity. "If you feel that what you have done was worth it!"

Loki, whose mouth was bound, could not have answered with spoken words. He simply gave a wicked grin, allowing his eyes to convey his message: "I can assure you it was."

He had failed. He knew that. But then again, was the goal ever to succeed? He had succeeded in his own way. He had shown their world- every world- that he was a force to be feared. All those years of being mocked, being cast aside, and he had finally gotten to prove himself. Yes, that was the goal. That had always been the goal.

Thor sighed and turned away. "Six months." He said softly. "Six months you have been in isolation, and you still fail to understand the extent of your vile ambitions." His voice was almost sorrowful in tone. "Are you unable to learn, brother?"

The chains holding Loki in place rattled as he jerked forward, letting out a muffled cry of rage, as he wished to strike him. He dared claim their relation, after all they had been through? He dared speak down to him, after seeing what he was capable of?

So he sat, looking up at his adoptive brother, loathing radiating from those piercing eyes; those eyes Thor had seen as friendly for most of their lives.

When had it gone wrong? Had it been when Thor had been temporarily exiled? Or perhaps during the minor invasion of Jotunheim? Or had it begun much earlier than that? Back when they were children, when Loki had first begun to suspect that he was different than his Asgardian kin, based on his appearance alone? He had always been clever like that. Thor often contemplated how that would feel, to think oneself an outcast, only to discover his whole life had been a lie. Although he tried, he could never finish the thought. It was far too frightening, too painful.

Loki glared up at him, wishing he could somehow know what he was thinking. "You are an incompetent fool who finds joy witnessing others' suffering." A small chuckle on Loki's part. "And now, you yourself shall be shown into a life equal to those which you impacted." _Wait, surely he can't mean... _"You will return only after you see the error of your ways." The unusually cool, composed face took on an aura of fear, of pure terror. "I am sorry." Could Thor not simply kill him, save him the torture? Did he have no mercy? "You may thank our father for giving me the idea." And in a flash of blinding light and sound, Loki found himself falling, his mouth free to let out a scream, and he hit the cold, foreign ground.


	2. Chapter 1: The First Day

The ground was cold. That was what he first noticed. He shouldn't have felt the heat from his body being drained so quickly. That was impossible, wasn't it? Then he noticed the pain. A steady ache pulsating from every inch of himself. He slowly- ever so slowly- pushed himself up, first onto all fours, then to one knee in a kneeling position. _Funny how that works._ Head in hand, Loki's breaths came heavily as he took in the reality of his situation. Once the clouds dispersed, he was greeted by the silver light of the moon, bright despite being in a crescent.

He finally looked around, seeing nothing but forest surrounding him. When his gaze lingered downward, only then did he discover that he was completely without clothing. "Another one of your childish games." He muttered. He was sure Thor was watching him.

Thor. His father's favourite, the one seen as perfect in every way. But he'd made a mistake. A mistake he would pay dearly for.

What better than to lead a predator into a herd of its prey? That was exactly what had happened. He would watch them, learn their strengths, their weaknesses. And, when the time came, he would convince Thor he had been changed, only to return to this world with the knowledge of how to obliterate it. He no longer wished to rule. Destruction served a far greater purpose. And it was much more fun.

He stood, the dark of night hovering in the air around him, and began walking aimlessly. What else could he do? Sitting naked in the middle of the woods wouldn't help him any. If he were to go through with this, he would have to associate himself with those simpletons.

He continued for hours before finally spotting a flickering light in the distance. _Fire. _By the time he reached the site of the flames, the small camp fire was but a pile of glowing embers. He hid behind a rather large tree for a few long minutes, deciding the campers were asleep after hearing their rhythmic breathing.

A few feet from the dimming blaze were two sets of clothing, though the light was too dull to make out anything about them other than the genders they were made for. Loki, quickly but quietly, made his way over, snatched the male shirt and jeans, and hurried off, dressing as he went.

He made sure to get as far away from the campsite as possible, but this mortal form tired quickly, and he soon had to stop and rest. He put together a pile of wet leaves and lay down, looking up at the sky. "You're rather enjoying this, aren't you?." He knew that Thor had that triumphant grin on his face. "Always looking down upon me. Ever since the beginning."

He slipped into sleep without realizing it. When he awoke, it was to the sunlight warm on his face, and the smell of organic matter which had survived the snow of winter. Not a bad smell, but not particularly pleasant, either. He sat up, rubbing his eyes until they adjusted to the lighting. Once he rose to his feet, he observed himself for what really was the first time since he'd arrived. The baggy jeans he'd stolen were much too large for him, and the white polo hung limply from his thin frame. And he recognised the logo right away.

His voice was just above a whisper. "Oh, of course." He looked down at the embroidered Stark Industries emblem and scowled. Just his luck. As if having to live in this place weren't enough punishment.

Without shoes, he could only walk short distances between having to take breaks. Were he in his usual state, he could have covered at least seven times the amount of ground._ Only a matter of time... _He assured himself. If he could withstand this torment, the benefits would be great. It would all be worth it in the end.

He knew before long that he would have to eat something. Mortals had to do that regularly. His only problem was the matter of how he would obtain food. He shook his head, figuring he would worry about that later. For now, as much as he hated the idea, he had to get into civilization.

He was a bit concerned, though he would never admit it. He wasn't sure if any of the mortals would recognise him. And if they did, he had no idea what they would do to him in this weakened state. After all, he was not exactly on friendly terms with them all.

He would not be surprised if they tried to kill him. They could believe he was back to throw their world into another war. They could _try_ to kill him, but he was sure that they would never succeed.

The sounds of the unfamiliar animals echoed, and it seemed that the trees would never end. The sun had inched its way across the sky, now almost directly above him. At one point, he came across a small creature- a rodent, by the looks of it- covered in fur, the tail even more so. He found it repulsive. Curious as to its reaction, he picked up a rock and tossed it in that general direction, causing it to scurry away up a tree. Rather disappointing. He'd hoped for a more aggressive reaction. _Just one more being this world could do without._

Whatever that was, there were a decent number of them, and each showed the same cowardice. None would even let him get close enough to examine it properly. The same could be said about almost every creature he stumbled across. All weak and easily frightened.

Kind of like him right now.

He physically shook this thought out of his head. He was not weak. He was temporarily impaired, was all. And he most certainly was _not_ frightened. After all, what did he have to fear? The mortals? This made him smirk. What a ridiculous idea.

About another hour of his journey caused the natural noises of the forest to fade into man-made sounds of vehicles and human conversation. This was it.


	3. Chapter 2: Woman

He walked for a long time, and soon, open fields gave way to a small town. First a few houses spread out over vast areas of land, then slowly coming closer together. From the little neighborhoods came shops, most old, with chipping paint and the occasional broken window. Various roadways were under construction, but Loki saw that once they were finished, the town could look quite charming. For a Midgardian town.

He got strange looks, that was obvious. After all, he certainly stood out. But he kept a composed expression, acting as if he knew exactly where he was going.

The sidewalks were all but empty, only passing a small number of people as he wandered. His gaze had unknowingly fallen to the ground, the result of an overwhelming amount of people staring and the self conscious tendencies which came with them.

Because the sidewalks were so abandoned, and because his focus was downward, he did not realize he'd run into someone until they were both sprawled out on the ground. Loki, having caught himself, grimaced at the stinging in his palms where bits of dirt and whatever else was on the concrete had made their way into the rips in his skin. "Are you so _insolent_-" He stopped speaking mid sentence, recalling that he was supposed to be putting on a show for his dear brother.

So instead, he turned, though remaining on the ground, and looked at the mortal sitting in front of him. A female, a rather petite young woman, with dark brown hair which came to the middle of her neck. She rubbed her head as she spoke. "I'm so sorry." Her voice was soft, honest. "That was completely my fault, I wasn't looking where I was going." Finally, her head moved from its tilted position, and she allowed her eyes to meet his.

The seconds seemed to last forever. She looked at him, he looked back. Loki could not read her expression. Was it wonder? Surprise? Some human emotion he himself had never experienced? There was so little to go off of.

"Are... Are you alright?" Her words were stronger now; not demanding, but concerned.

Loki observed his hands once again. "Yes." What more could he say? She'd asked a question, he'd answered it.

She could only look at him for a few moments, that same, odd feature on her face. What was going on in her mind? "Are you sure?"

"...Yes."

She smiled a bit. "Not big on words, are we?" He shook his head. "So, what do I call you?"

"L-" He stopped before he said "Loki". He was sure the news of his last visit had spread, and there was a chance she would recognise his name. "...Lucas." That was a mortal name, wasn't it?

She seemed to believe him, for her smile grew. "Well, Lucus, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." She held out her hand. It took a moment for him to recall that this was a common Midgardian greeting. "My name is Gracia." She gathered up the papers which had scattered across the ground upon impact, then stood, offering her hand, this time to help him up, which he did not accept.

He wiped his hands on his pants, and Gracia, for the first time, was able to look over him fully. "What do you say I buy you lunch? You look like you haven't eaten in I don't know how long."

The small cafe was far from busy. Loki and Gracia sat across the table from each other, eating some mortal food Loki did not recognise. "So, Stark Industries." She commented, glancing at the logo on his shirt. "You work there?" A blunt, negative answer. "Are you new around here?" He nodded. "Where are you from, if you don't mind me asking?"

He hesitated, looking at her thin face. "I am sure you have no knowledge of it."

She grinned. "You'd be surprised." He simply shook his head and finished whatever it was that was on his plate. "Where do you live? I can give you a ride, if you want."

"I... I'm not residing anywhere, at present."

"You're not?" She seemed to contain a form of pity for him, which almost made him chuckle. "Well, that won't do." He looked down when he felt her hand on top of his. "I guess you'll just have to come live with me."

Gracia paid for the meal, then led Loki out to her vehicle. He didn't particularly enjoy this method of transportation, but he did not reiterate his thoughts. This could end up being beneficial. He would be able to see how mortals live, up close and personal. A perfect way to learn how to bring them down.

"This is it." She stated after a few minutes. The house was small, white with red shutters. Upon entering, she led him into a fully furnished bedroom. "This is my room. You can sleep here tonight."

Loki wandered over to the bed, placing a hand on the smooth blankets. "And what of you?" He asked, sounding as innocent as a small child.

She smiled. "I have the couch. I'll be fine there." Organizing the mess on the dresser, her head turned to face him again. "I'll go out and get you some new clothes tomorrow."

He nodded. "Thank you." It was killing him to speak so civilly to such barbarians, such low beings. But he did so.

When night fell, Loki slipped out of his stolen clothing and lay between the white cotton sheets. As exhausted as he was, he could not sleep. He looked out the window, to the clouded sky above. After what must have been at least an hour, he heard the doorknob turn, and closed his eyes. She must have thought him asleep, for she knelt at his bedside, and he became aware of soft, feminine lips upon his forehead. Then, a gentle caress of his face in her hand. And then she was gone.

Was this truly what it seemed to be? Love was no stranger to him. He'd witnessed it many a time in others, but never had someone felt love for him. He gave a sly smile despite himself. This could not work any more perfectly.

He would toy with her. Gain her trust, learn as much as he could about her. And when the time came, he would use the information she gave him to rip apart her realm.

It was not, as others could possibly see it, an act of vengeance. He felt that this realm posed a threat not only to Asgard, but to every other world, as well. They had experienced multiple attacks on their race already. It was only a matter of time before they staged their own. And with their oversized egos and crippling pride, it was sure to be bloody. Whether anyone else saw so or not, he was doing this for the good of everyone.

And this time, he _would_ succeed.


	4. Chapter 3: Innocence

He awoke before the sun could rise, and, unknowing what to do, simply sat on the bed for hours on end. He needed to think this through. He could not act without thinking. Doing such could prove fatal.

It would take time, that was certain. He had to manipulate Gracia, gain her trust. Even if it meant seducing her. He probably should have felt bad about it, but he knew what he had to do. _Sacrifices must be made in order for victory to be achieved_. He thought solombly.

The woman entered around 9:00 AM, her hair wet, a cell phone between her ear and shoulder. "I can't, I got called into work." Pause. "I'm sorry, Jess, but you'll have to find someone else to watch him." Gracia placed a pile of fresh clothing next to Loki and smiled at him. "No, I don't know anyone who-" She stopped mid sentence and looked at her new houseguest. "Let me call you back." She hung up. "Hey, Lucas?" Sitting beside him, her face was sweet. "How are you with kids?"

The things he would do for his cause.

"Thank you so much." Jess, Gracia's friend, shook Loki's hand. "I never knew Gracia had a cousin. I guess it was luck that you're staying with her."

Loki gave a false smile. That had been their story. He was her cousin who was visiting from another country. He couldn't remember which. Mortals had such strange names for places. "I assure you it is of no trouble." He was glad he was a good liar.

The child was a young male, about three feet tall, with dark hair, about the same colour as Loki's. His mother introduced him as David. As soon as the two were alone, the youth began asking questions. "What's your name?"

"Lucas." Again, it was good that he could lie with a straight face.

The boy gave him an odd, suspicious look. "Are you sure?"

"Well, of course. Why do you ask?" Loki's expression was confused.

David's eyes didn't leave Loki's face. "You look like a guy from one of my books." His arms crossed. "Do you have a brother?"

There was a lengthy moment of silence. "Not by blood."

"So you're adopted?"

"Yes." He wanted more than anything to change the subject now.

"...Alright, then." David wandered into the kitchen, curious eyes scanning his surroundings. "What do you know about mythology?"

Loki stopped cold. "A small amount."

He sat down, looking at the man in charge of watching him. "Do you know about Thor and Loki?"

So this was it. His cover was blown, and by this _child_. He had to stay calm, act natural. "And what do you know of them?"

He went on to tell the story which Loki knew all too well. Most of the boy's retelling was about Thor and his triumphs. He knew more about this sort of thing than Loki had expected. Truly a brilliant child.

The thrill of sharing his knowledge had distracted the boy from his initial intentions. "So, what're we gonna do?"

This took Loki by surprise. Was he expected to entertain him? "I... Never thought about that. I'm fairly new at this."

"Yeah, I can tell." David hopped off the chair, and went into another room. _Little brat_. Loki scowled. He came back with a colouring book and package of crayons. "Miss Gracia keeps these here for me."

At first it was torturous. Loki had no idea children had so many needs. But he soon came to almost enjoy his company, Loki telling him stories of Asgard. David seemed entranced, soaking up every word with a child's enthusiasm.

Of course, he would think of these tales as legends. Nothing more than the products of human minds. His secret was safe.

It fascinated him. How could such an innocent young mortal have such an open mind? Loki had always thought them unable to do anything of the kind, only seeing what was directly in front of them. But here was this boy, listening intently, and Loki was sure he could see his imagination forming images to fit the scenarios being described. There was only one explanation: At a young age, mortals were perfectly fine. It was when they grew that they became dangerous.

He could not allow himself to be disillusioned by this. Midgard posed a direct threat to everything he'd ever known. He had, at one point, had been sure that ruling over them would be the only way to keep them from destroying anything they did not understand. But that obviously had not worked out as he'd planned.

"I'm hungry." Now _this_ he had not thought out. Loki had no idea how to cook, let alone_ what _to cook.

He stood, making his way over to the cabinets. What did mortal children like to eat? He took multiple things out, hoping something would grab David's attention, who seemed to be enjoying watching his babysitter struggle. After a solid twenty minutes, he decided on some sort of red fruit which had been sitting on the counter the entire time. Loki grudgingly put everything back where he'd found it.

At 4:00, David's mother returned to pick up her son. "Mommy!" David promptly remarked upon seeing her. "Mister Lucas is a god and he's from Asgard and-"

"Yes, I'm sure he is." Just as he'd hoped, the woman thought David's words the results of a game. She looked at Loki, and gave him a kind smile, which he returned. "Thank you so much."

"Please, it was no trouble. Your boy is quite charming."

He thought his words over once they'd left. The innocence of youth was extraordinary. Had he himself ever had such high spirits, such bright, optimistic eyes? He couldn't remember.

Gracia returned about an hour afterwards and asked how it had gone. He explained what had happened- to an extent- which she seemed to be pleased with. He could tell he had her in the palm of his hand.

Though, he could not get the child out of his mind. So excitable, so full of life. It puzzled him to think of how such an attitude could be acquired.

He could use some cheerfulness in his life. He began contemplating to himself what it would be like if, when he returned to Asgard, he had a child of his own.


	5. Chapter 4: The Beginning

"Brother?" Thor, a young child at the time, opened his eyes. From the doorway, he saw a familiar figure.

"It's the nightmare again, isn't it?" He asked. Loki, a thin blanket pulled around his shoulders, dragging behind him, nodded vigorously. Thor smiled and patted the bed beside him. "Come on, then." The younger of the two scrambled up and rested his head on one of the pillows next to Thor's. "Have you told Father of it yet?"

Loki turned onto his side, facing away from him. "...No."

He felt a comforting, supportive hand on his shoulder. "You must. It will bring closure."

His voice was grim. "What makes you say that? He never listens to me."

"Then I'll talk to him." Thor gave a light hearted grin. It was a kind gesture, with nothing but good intentions, but that was how it all started.

Odin summoned him later the next day. "Your brother told me of what happened last night." Loki simply looked at him. "How long has this been happening?"

The boy stood tall, trying to show both Odin and himself that he was not afraid. "A number of years." Odin asked him to explain the details of the nightmare. He pondered for a moment. "Well," He started. "It's dark, and cold. And there are people yelling and fighting. And I try to stop them, but they can't hear me. And I feel so alone..." He composed himself again. "And then, I see you, and you're looking around this big, cold room, and somewhere there's a baby crying and-"

"That's enough!" Odin cut him off suddenly. "You will never speak of this to anyone, you will forget this poisonous dream!" Startled, confused, and genuinely frightened, Loki nodded. Noting the tears beginning to form in his eyes, Odin held out his arms. Loki did not hesitate to run into them, holding back sobs as his father embraced him, his voice softer now. "You are my son, Loki. Always remember that." Whether the child either could not or refused to piece it all together would remain a mystery to them both.

"Ow!"

"Do you surrender?"

"N- Agh! Okay, okay!"

Thor kept Loki's arm twisted awkwardly behind his back for a few seconds after his giving in. Wrestling had always been his idea of playing, which Loki had never quite understood. In good spirits, Thor offered him a hand to help him off the ground where he lay making sure nothing was broken. "You've never been good at this."

Loki dusted off his clothes. "Which is why you enjoy it so much."

A moment's hesitation. "Maybe." He shrugged. "Come on!" He took off running, Loki struggling to keep up.

His speed was no match for Thor's. For anyone's. Why was he so unlike the rest of his family? He looked different, he acted different. He _felt_different. What made him so atypical? Why was it that no matter how hard he tried, he could never match his brother?

These were his thoughts as they ran seemingly aimlessly. They always were. Contemplating self worth, personality distinctions, morals. All things that should never even cross the mind of a child of such a young age. But such ideas and theories were common to Loki, bringing forth a new question: _Why do others no think as I do?  
_  
He was so absorbed in his thoughts that he didn't notice Thor had stopped until he had run directly into him. Looking around at their destination, Loki frowned. "We're right... where we started." He panted. "Tell me, what... was the point of that?" Thor simply shrugged and walked in a new direction. That was Loki's cue to follow.

This was about when the resentment began. When he'd begun to see just how much attention Thor got for his achievements, and how little he got for his own. When he'd realized that in their father's heart, they were unequal. _What am I? _Those three simple words, when placed together, forming such a complex question, a question he felt could never be answered. _Or, would it not be simpler to ask "What am I not"?  
_  
He could see what he was not. That much was easy. He was not strong, he was not fast, he was not brave, he was not of the accepted Asgardian appearance. He was not talented, he was not respected, he was not destined to be great.

He was not Thor.

"I don't understand." Loki sat beside his mother, who was gently stroking his hair.

"What do you mean?" She asked.

Loki pulled his knees to his chest. "Why does Father prefer Thor over me? Did I do something wrong? Is it because I'm not as good at things as him?" He said this flatly, having thought it so many times that emotion no longer reacted.

"Loki..." She seemed almost hurt by his words, though he could not quite comprehend why. She pulled him close, held his head lightly to her chest. "Your father loves you. As do I. And you are more gifted than you know." She looked into his eyes. "I have an idea."

That was how he'd begun to learn the art of magic. Instead of running in circles, he would stay and study, practice. It was not long before he became exceedingly skilled, leaving even his dear brother in awe. His ability was so great, he soon surpassed even his elders, performing acts of sorcery thought impossible for a man four times his age to complete. Though his personality led him to use it for much less helpful situations.

"**LOKI!**"Thor's voice echoed, even at such a young age, throughout the palace. He silenced himself and glanced at Sif, her arms crossed in front of her. The only sound was a stifled laughter. Thor began walking toward the other side of the room, and upon doing so, a small "Uh-oh" could be heard. There was a thud, as if an unseen person had run into the large chest. Now aware of the location of the mischief maker, Thor reached out and threw what appeared to be no more than air to the ground.

The invisibility spell broke as soon as Loki landed. "It wasn't me, I swear!"

Thor lifted his brother to his feet. "You lie!" He pushed Loki, who didn't fight back.

"It was an accident!"

"One does not simply cut off a young maiden's hair by accident!" He took Loki by the shoulders, turned him around to face Sif, and shoved him in her direction. "Go apologise."

He walked up to her, and for a moment they only looked at each other. Her eyes saw a single strand of blonde hair on his shirt, and she promptly slapped him. His expression remained blank. Another moment of quiet. "I think my brother fancies you." Sif slapped him again, and Thor didn't hesitate to slam him into the wall.

Though he struggled, he was no match for the future king's strength. "That was not an apology!"

"Oh, don't fret!" Loki said. "I'll fix it."

He kept his word, though he could not get Sif's new hair back to the radiant gold it originally had been. But hey, he was new at this, but still very talented. And he would soon become even more so.

This new found strength, along with his quick intellect, led to a short period of pride, of actual confidence which would stay with him, though shrinking rapidly as time went on, for years to come. It had all but disappeared many a time, but, in those days he ruled, it had returned. He'd felt worth something. He'd felt the desire to live.

And it all ended with those few words.

"I could have done it, Father! I could have done it! For you! For all of us!"

"...No, Loki."

* * *

**What a nice chapter to have been published on my birthday~**

**Added the part about Loki cutting off Sif's hair completely last minute. I thought I didn't have enough (Or any, really) of Loki's prankster side. Which is pretty important, him being the God of Mischief, and all. :P**


	6. Chapter 5: Mortal Emotions

He hated thinking about that, those days he had no way of knowing much about anything. He had been so ignorant, so misunderstood. And the nightmare which plagued him for years, even after Odin's scolding, had only stopped when Loki came to the conclusion that it was not just a dream, but a sort of memory. He still didn't quite understand, however, why he was able to remember such a thing, as he should have been far too young at the time to recall.

It rained that day, the view from the house's window a drab grey without the proper sunlight. Just so long as it didn't storm, he was happy. Storms reminded him of someone he was not overly fond of.

Gracia returned from work at the usual time, early evening. The first thing she did was sit beside him on the couch. "I really appreciate you watching David yesterday. It means a lot to me."

"As I said, it was no trouble." Loki smiled at her.

She looked into his eyes, chocolate brown into cool green. "I know almost nothing about you. And I... I can't read you. I can usually tell a little bit about a person when I look at them, but you're... different." She sounded enchanted. "I... want to know everything."

Loki didn't quite understand. Was her curiosity so great? "But... why?"

A meek hand, with skin like satin, rested on his. "Because I care about you. You intrigue me." The presence was kind, almost nurturing.

He lowered his eyes to the carpet. There was no stopping her. He might as well go ahead. "I was raised with privilege. My mother, father, brother and I. We were all very close. Some of us more than others..." He hesitated only for a moment. "My brother was always far more cherished. I always felt beneath him, and that... changed me. I broke, did some things I regret. One thing led to another, and I ended up hanging from a bridge, barely holding on to the will to live.

"My father showed up, and for a moment, I thought everything was going to be alright. I tried to tell him that everything I'd done was for him, for the good of all of us, but he... still told me I wasn't good enough. So I let go.

"I should have died. For about a year, they thought I had. I was devastated, lost, and again I lost control. Once they saw what I'd done, they told me to leave them, to fend for myself in a world I was unfamiliar with. And then I met you." The last phrase sounded indebted, as his words came smoothly.

He left out the portion about his Jotun origins, of the pain which that discovery had left him with. After all, how could he explain such without throwing his whole facade away?

Silence, tears filling Gracia's eyes as she whispered "You poor thing..." She flung her arms around him, leaving him slightly shocked. "It's okay now. You're not alone anymore." He hadn't noticed he had returned her embrace until he opened his eyes to see his hands trembling. "I'm going to help you. I'm going to make you see just how amazing you really are. And I don't care what your father, or your brother, or what anyone else thinks."

Speaking softly, overtaken with the painful emotion reliving his past had caused, he kept their bodies close. "Thank you. For everything."

She leaned away, placing the tips of two fingers on his forehead in what Loki assumed was a sign of human affection. She then touched her lips to his jawline, gradually progressing to his mouth. The world around them seemed to slow, to stop completely. Their lips moving together, hearts racing, focusing on nothing but the person in front of them.

The first time Loki had ever kissed someone.

When it came time for them to breath again, he stood, carefully picked her up in his arms, and carried her onto the bench which sat on her porch. He held her close, both sets of eyes closed, listening to the rain hit the roof. Was this what it was like to be cared about? To be loved?

Gracia eventually slipped down so her head lay on Loki's lap as he lightly stroked her hair. "It's strange." She said. "It's been less than a week, and yet..." A grin came to her face. "Here we are." He then moved his hand to caress her face, which she seemed to enjoy tremendously.

Loki refused to shift in his seat, not wanting to disturb her comfort. At this moment in time, he did not reflect on his childhood, of the days playing games with Thor, or turning wine into snakes all for a bit of fun. He did not think of the misery Odin's lies had left him with, the intense envy he had felt for his brother his entire life. He thought only of this moment, of this woman. Nothing else mattered, not in this realm, nor any other.

They stayed in that position for a long time, not speaking, simply enjoying each others' presence. Once she fell into the tranquil peacefulness of sleep, he picked her up and lay her on the couch, covering her with a blanket. He stared at the thin face, complemented greatly by her short haircut, and felt an odd kind of rush go through his chest. A sort of ache, though not unpleasant. Without thinking, he bent down beside her and laid his lips upon hers. And it was not because he felt it was necessary for his plans to see the light of day. It was because he wanted to.

Realizing what he'd just done, he flew to his feet and half ran, half stumbled into the bedroom, having to support himself the entire way there. He leaned against the door frame, eyes wide, breaths heavy as he silently admitted to himself something he could never had seen coming.

_I... I love her..._


	7. Chapter 6: Reflection

Upon awakening, Loki knew not what the warmth beside him was. It was only when his head cleared from sleep that he remembered Gracia slipping into bed with him, the events which had taken place. This new sense of passion, making him feel so distant, yet so close at the same time.

To think his plan had backfired, escalated into such a situation. He should have been furious with himself, to have fallen for her when he was supposed to simply pretend to do so. However, he was almost glad. All he'd ever wanted was acceptance, to feel loved. And here he was, receiving everything he had longed for his entire life.

By the time her eyes opened, he was already half dressed, his shirt the only article of clothing missing. "Good morning." He said this calmly, his voice like silk.

Gracia stood, resting her palms on his bare chest, her own body completely unclad. "How long have you been awake?"

"Only a short time." It was a lie, of course. Old habits die hard.

The woman smiled. "I was thinking. I know a nice restaurant downtown. Would you be interested in... you know... going for dinner tonight? I mean, I know it's a bit early to be thinking about dinner, but..." She trailed off at the feeling of Loki's hand stroking her cheek.

His touch light, he gave a shy smile. "I would be honoured."

Loki, dressed in a black polo and matching pants, was nothing compared to the stunning Gracia, in her red and white argyle sundress, silver earrings dangling and reflecting the light every whichway.

The trip could not have been more uncomfortable. Loki wanted more than anything to make conversation, to learn all she knew about Midgard. But what if he were to ask something that gave away his true history? Or if he were to say something as to disillusion her, make her reconsider what she felt toward him?

He wanted to tell her everything about himself. Where he'd come from, why he was here. He wanted to tell her all about Loki, not Lucas.

He held the door for her when they arrived, as Midgardian gentlemen were supposed to do, and were quickly seen to a table.

They started and restarted small conversations as they ate, all foods Loki did not recognise. Every so often, they would find their hands clasped together, blushing slightly.

When it was over, Gracia stood. "I'm going to freshen up. I'll be right back." She lightly kissed his forehead, then walked away, leaving Loki in his chair. He allowed his eyes to wander, and soon realized that this was probably not the best idea, as his gaze met with another man's, who was sitting across the room.

Each rose to his feet simultaneously, began walking briskly, and met halfway across the restaurant. Loki was the first to speak. "A bit far from your monument, are you not? What are you doing here?"

Tony Stark, his face threatening, was only inches away. "Well, one: my girlfriend has family here, and two, most importantly: it's _my_ planet, which leads to the real question: why are _you_ here?"

Loki raised his hands to show he was not armed. As if he needed a weapon to fight in his usual condition. "I promise you I mean no harm, and am not here of my own free will." He smirked. "And even if I were, without your precious suit, you are virtually helpless."

"Who said I don't have it with me right now?" A glare on Tony's part. "Not of your own free will. Next you're going to tell me you're here on a date."

"Lucas?" Gracia's voice rang out behind Loki. "Oh, sorry, am I interrupting?"

He put his arm around her shoulders, as if to prove a point. "Not at all. We were just saying our goodbyes." Saying this without breaking eye contact with the scowling man in front of him, he waited a few moments before turning away, Gracia pulled close to him.

She looked up to his face. "You two know each other, I'm assuming?"

"...You could say that."

Tony, on the other hand, was not nearly as composed. He rushed back over to his table, not sitting down. "Listen, Pepper, I just have to make a call-"

"Who was-"

"And it's really urgent-"

"But, Tony-"

"It'll take two minutes-"

"I-"

"I'll be right back." He hurried out of the restaurant.

"Tony...!" Pepper sighed and took a rather large sip of her wine. Typical Tony.

Once he was outside, Tony pulled out his cellphone, hitting speed dial 7. "Banner. Listen, we have trouble. … Actually, that's _exactly_ who it is. … Yeah. And that's not all. He's got a woman with him. … No, she looks in control of herself. And besides, I get a bad feeling about her." Bruce asked a simple question; why Tony felt so negative toward her. In response, he gave a slight suspicious look, though Bruce obviously could not see it. "Because she didn't recognise me."

Gracia did not ask any questions about the incident when they returned. Loki could only assume she had no interest, or at least thought nothing of it. Either way, he was glad he didn't have to do any explaining.

They had a lovely evening. She introduced Loki to all sorts of Midgardian music- He took a significant interest in one mortal named Billy Joel- And, just before falling asleep in his arms, she whispered three words. "I love you." He smiled, kissed the top of her head, and lay her down when she fell into deep sleep.

He pulled on a thin jacket, then his lone pair of shoes. He needed to go for a walk.

The thought of having no destination, using the free time to think things over, was so like his childhood. And, oddly enough, the familiarity comforted him. How long had he been in this realm? Six days? No, five. Had it only been five days? It seemed like weeks, maybe even months. Not that he was complaining. He wouldn't have minded if he had to stay here the rest of his life. In fact, he would have been happy to. As long as Gracia were beside him.

"Only one of you can ascend to the throne, but both of you were born to be kings."

Yes, Odin was correct. He was born to be king. But of what? True, he was Laufey's son, but obviously that was not going to work out as his birth parents had originally hoped.

"I never wanted the throne! I only ever wanted to be your equal!"

If Loki had spoken but one statement of truth, that had been it.

He hadn't even noticed that he'd been smiling, or just how far he'd walked. He found himself in the middle of a large field, stars shining in the clear sky above him. He felt safe here. Safe, accepted, loved. This world, so unlike Asgard, had welcomed him, a stranger, with open arms. What would become of a mortal, were they to have been sent to Asgard? Would they be welcomed? Or would they be shunned, or worse off, killed?

He didn't get to come up with an answer. Loki's thoughts were interrupted by a sudden, violent crack of thunder. His head shot up, and to his horror, he saw the once clear sky had filled with clouds, all swirling directly above him.

"You will return only after you see the error of your ways."

He had changed. And now it was over. "No!" Loki cried. "Brother, please, I- I can't go! I'm not ready yet!" Every second, the wind got stronger, carrying his voice across the field. More thunder, streaks of electricity flashing across the clouds.

And just as Loki yelled once more, his voice was all but silenced as a bolt of lightning struck the ground directly in front of him, and his entire world went black.


	8. Chapter 7: So Long And Goodnight

"He's awakening. Leave us."

"But-"

"I said leave us."

Loki moaned, shifted his position just a little, and slowly regained awareness of his existence. He opened his eyes, then promptly shut them again, shielding them from the light. When he adjusted, he sat up and saw a familiar man in front of him.

"Welcome home." Thor stood by the end of his bed- Yes, this was Loki's bed- a strong gentleness on his face.

Looking down at himself, Loki saw that he was wearing his Asgardian clothing. Everything was just as he'd last seen it. "How long have I been unconscious?"

After counting in his head, Thor spoke matter-of-factly. "Just over thirteen hours." Loki rubbed his head. "I apologise for my methods of transporting you. With the Bifrost still being rebuilt, my resources are limited." He watched as Loki stood, and with a sharp movement of his wrist, the blankets were ripped from the bed and thrown by an unseen force across the room.

Loki smiled just a bit in relief. With his power restored, there was only one thing that could make him feel better. "I have to go back."

"No!" Thor sounded incredibly stern, even for him. "You will stay here!"

The words, so very harsh, stung. "B- but Gracia-"

Thor grabbed Loki's collar. "No, Loki! You fail to understand! I myself must go to Midgard, but you must stay here at least until it's safe!"

"Safe?" Thor paused, noting his error.

Despite demanding answers, Loki remained clueless. "You are my brother, and I do not wish to see you hurt." He sounded sincere. "I will try my best to keep the woman alive."

What was going on? Why would Thor forbid him from returning to Midgard? What could be so terrible?

And most importantly, how was he going to escape?

"You think the Bifrost is the only way in and out of this realm? There are passages between worlds to which even you, with all your gifts, are blind."

_Of course!_Throwing open the door, he attacked every guard he saw with massive blasts of energy, temporarily stunning each of them long enough for him to run out of their view. He could do this.

The world he returned to was not that which he had left. That small town had been quaint, charming. This one was close to being in ruins. Smoke billowed up into the noontime sky, and fires could be seen in the distance. Screams and sirens filled the usually calm atmosphere, and Loki found himself wondering for a moment if he was in the correct place.

Here he was, again running with no definite end in mind. He just had to find Gracia. He had to make sure she was okay.

The streets were all but empty in most places, but every so often, a group of people would sprint away from an explosion, searching in vain for a secure place to reside.

Once in a while, Loki would catch sight of a person laying under rubble, or in the middle of the road. He could only hope they were unconscious and not dead.

The cafe he'd first eaten at collapsed beside him, and he quickly bolted around a corner. Distracted, he didn't notice someone in front of him until their bodies crashed together.

Eyes meeting, it should have felt like the first time again. But this was nothing like the first time. "Gracia," He skipped a proper greeting. "We must go. Now!"

It was strange, unsettling. Her voice, so calm, sounded almost unnatural. "Why?"

Loki put his hands firmly on her shoulders. She must have been injured. She wasn't thinking clearly. "What do you mean 'Why'? Look around you!"

She remained just short of unemotional. "Is this not what you wanted? Was this not your goal all along?" The smallest hint of a smile. "Why would I run from such an opportunity? But the better question is why would you _want_ me to run?" He gave her a confused look. "Well? Should we not stay and help? Reap the benefits of destruction? Would that not be more practical? Would that not be more _ravishing_, Loki?"

Loki.

Loki. Not Lucas. She'd said Loki. Yet he had never disclosed his true identity. "H- how..."

"You hold me in such contempt." Her voice was belittling. "I suppose it's in your nature. After all, Frost Giants are not necessarily known for their premonitions."

Silence. A long, bewildered silence. "How do you know that?" He did his best to hide how frightened, how distraught her words had made him, though his emotions were very obvious.

She gave a malicious grin. "I have had more influence on you than you know. Tell me, do you ever think about the dream? Oh, I know you do, I can see it!" She chuckled, then closed her eyes and placed the tips of her fingers gently on his forehead. To his astonishment, his head filled with unfamiliar images. "A single touch can do so many things. I borrowed the memory from your- well, I guess Odin isn't _really_your father, now is he? I was curious, and when I saw that tucked away, I thought it a bit unfair for you not to know your true origins. So, when you were asleep, I snuck into your room and gave you a taste of your true heritage. Seems you never quite forgot, now did you?" Loki could only watch as her mortal garments transformed into a flowing red Asgardian-style gown, a small, silver hair accessory wrapped around her head and dipping down onto her forehead.

It all made sense now. The memory he shouldn't have had, the way she'd taken a liking to him right away, the way she'd kissed, touched his forehead so many times. They'd had the same idea. They both had planned to use the other. And he'd been the one to give in.

He could not think of what to do. "Gracia..."

"Please. I've used that alias for far too long. Use my real name when you speak to me." He was about to ask what it was when she touched her fingers to his forehead once again and mentally saw his answer. _Groa_.

He'd heard of her. A powerful sorceress- a volva, as they were called in Asgard- Said unable to be killed, for she was never truly alive. More spirit than woman.

"Now you listen well." She said softly. "I am only giving you two choices here. You may help me, just as you had intended to do from the start, or you can go, in which case I will not kill you unless you attempt to interfere."

Loki looked at her for a long time. "So everything you said... that you loved me... that was a lie?" He had a new sort of ache in his chest now. This one, however, was not pleasant.

"Love..." Her voice held no remorse whatsoever. "Such a silly thing that is. A very mortal thing. Don't tell me that you have fallen to the level of a mortal, Loki?" He could only stare at her, a broken expression on his face. Those three words, those words which he had longed to hear his entire life. Nothing more than a tool to pry open his heart. "Well, then. I suppose I know the answer to my question. It would be wise of you to never attempt to see me again." Looking behind him, she added one last thing. "And now your old friends are here to save you. How cute. Maybe your brother will put up a nice fight. Certainly more than you could."

She disappeared fairly quickly, fading away from his sight. He was so focused on the spot where she once stood that he barely noticed when something slammed into him, pinning him against a wall.

"Mean no harm, huh?" Tony's voice came from beneath his helmet. Then, as if it couldn't get any worse, from around the corner came a less than satisfied Thor.

He threw Tony away. "Did I not instruct you to stay in Asgard!"

Loki pulled himself free from his brother's grasp. "I do what I want." His voice was dark, still hurting from being compared to Thor yet again.

"Loki, you are being childish! That woman is far more dangerous than anything we have ever fought!"

"You knew." He responded. "You knew what she was, why didn't you tell me?"

Thor looked at him. "I found out only after I brought you back. I kept the fact from you only because I wanted to protect you from the truth."

Another lie meant to shield him. "To protect me? Well, you're doing a _marvelous_job at it." He was sick of being protected, of being sheltered. Did no one believe him capable of watching over himself? "You will get these people to safety. I will deal with Gra- Groa."

Tony's helmet revealed his face. "And how do you expect to do that?"

He stood tall, a false look of confidence on his face. "I can distract her. I was keeping her intrigued for this long, there's little doubt I can keep her occupied long enough to allow for the safe passage of a large amount of civilians."

"Or, you could be saying that and plan to turn on us." Everyone's head turned toward this new voice. "Sorry I'm late." Bruce Banner added as he walked around the corner. "Takes a bit longer to get around when you're the only one who can't fly."

Loki gave only the smallest hint of a grin. "Ah, so you brought the monster, as well." This earned him a hard glare from Thor. "Let me lay out the scenarios for you. A: You choose to trust me and I betray you. The result: Everyone dies. B: You choose not to trust me, I do nothing. Result: Everyone dies. C: You choose to trust me, I keep her busy for at least a small amount of time. Result: We save innocent lives." He looked around. "Or, of course, there is the lovely fourth option in which we continue to stand here chatting away as people perish."

Tony glared. Wasn't _he_supposed to be the snarky sarcastic one? "Go find her." He instructed Loki. No time was wasted.

His first idea had been to follow the path of destruction, but it appeared that Groa could scatter her demolition wherever she liked. Was this truly what she was? Was she truly the kind to destroy that which she'd known for who knows how long?

She was not the woman he'd bumped into on the street, the woman who had invited him into her home, the woman he'd fallen in love with. Gracia had been a separate woman.

The three Avengers who were there led person after person away from the chaos. Would Loki do what he'd promised? Thor was the only one who could be sure. He was honourable. Or at least now he was.

The deafening roar of fire could not be put out even with his strongest spells. But even over all the noise, Loki could make out a familiar voice screaming, begging.

"Stop it, Miss Gracia!"

The voice of a male child, close by, yet not able to be seen. Loki quickened his run even further, clearing away clouds of smoke with only the slightest movement of his hand.

He saw David just as his mother ran over to the boy and tried to get him to escape. But he was persistent, begging Groa to stop. Loki could not see her, but he knew she was there. Jess picked David up and began sprinting away. But she knew not what they were up against. The child's eyes met Loki's for only a moment before an enormous flash of red light and energy filled the air.

And then mother and son lay dead in each others' arms.

"No!" Loki, without thinking, ran over to the limp forms resting on the ground. David's eyes, now still, were wide with terror, and still seemed to plead for help. It took everything he had to keep from crying.

He turned only when he felt something like an electrical charge in the atmosphere. A mass of red light headed straight toward him, which he deflected with a whip of his own magic energy. "I told you not to interfere." She said grimly. He thrusted his hand forward, the blast throwing her to the ground. She quickly regained her footing, and responded with an almost identical attack. "You're not the only one who can do tricks." She took a few steps closer to him. "You don't understand. I have witnessed every memory you have, I know every secret you hold, I have seen everything you fear. I-"

Loki grabbed a large rusty pipe from the ground and struck the side of her head with it. "Then fight me."

Thor and the others watched the flashes of coloured light from the other side of the town. "You think it's going well?" Bruce asked. Thor nodded, though he could not be sure.

Groa staggered back after a solid fifteen minutes of physical battle. She was getting weary. When Loki saw her beginning to fade from view, he swiftly grabbed onto her, and despite her attempting to tear him off, his grasp remained tight. After all, this would probably be the last time he was able to embrace her.

They were transported to a rooftop. Loki threw her to the ground, pinning her hands to either side of her head. He could feel trace amounts of blood dripping down his face, but what he really noticed were the tears which did the same. "You said you loved me." He whispered softly.

"I should be rewarded." She stated. "Having tricked the Trickster. You are said to be sly and clever, far more than anyone else. And yet..." A small laugh. "Are you going to kill me now? Add me to the list of people whose lives you've taken? I suppose I cannot expect any less from a Jotun. From a _monster_."

He was looking into her beautiful brown eyes, his heart feeling as if it were being shredded. He barely felt the cold being emitted from his hands, which were slowly turning that deep blue he despised so much. "You said you loved me..."

Thor was first to arrive, and he quickly told the others not to make a sound when they got to the rooftop. Loki, his appearance having not yet changed from that chilling Jotun complexion and piercing scarlet eyes, sat with his hand resting on the large mass of ice beside him, which, one could easily see, had a woman frozen inside. It took him a few moments to fully convince himself that this man- this poor, broken Frost Giant- was, in fact, his brother. The young boy whom he had played with in their youth, whom he had secretly looked up to their entire lives. Seeing him like this hit him in a vulnerable spot he was never aware he had. But what hurt Thor the most was the fact that, for the first time, his brother allowed himself to cry openly. And despite his sobs, he managed to sing quietly.

"_Goodnight my angel, now it's time to sleep_

_And still so many things I want to say_

_Remember all the songs you sang for me_

_When we went sailing on an emerald bay_

_And like a boat out on the ocean_

_I'm rocking you to sleep_

_The water's dark and deep, inside this ancient heart_

_You'll always be a part of me..._"

They all felt pity, even Tony, though he hated to admit it. Thor eventually knelt beside him. "The humans... think us immortal."

Standing only after his face and eyes had returned to their usual appearance, Loki stepped over to the edge of the building, looking over the side. "...Should we test that?"

"Loki, no!" He was pulled away by his brother, who looked him straight in the eyes as he said five words. "You come home with me."

* * *

**Poor baby. :'( Well, I hope you liked it~ Just a heads-up for future reference, whenever I write multiple stories for one category, I tend to make them all connected. Sorry about that...**

**Groa is from Norse mythology (I totally made up her powers), and the song is _Lullaby _by Billy Joel.**


	9. Epilogue: A New Hope

**Dammit, dammit, dammit! Sorry about the confusion. In the Doc Manager, this and the prologue were right on top of one another and I didn't bother to double check. . Anyway, here's your Marvel-style ending. (Again, sorry. D:))**

* * *

"Where's Loki now?"

"Asgard, we assume. He's not currently seen as a threat."

"And the girl?"

"Killed in battle. No doubt he mourns for her, but we feel strongly that he will not exert any attacks-"

"That's not the girl I mean, Director Fury." He looked up to the screens in front of him at the members of the council. "You've been watching her for almost two years now. Do you or do you not plan on taking her into custody?"

Director Fury's voice was serious. "I plan on approaching her, training her, and convincing her to use her abilities for the good of mankind."

"She's dangerous."

"She is more powerful than what we can comprehend." He said sternly. "If we don't work with her, someone else will, and there's no guarantee they'll be friendly. That girl could be a great ally," He turned away, finishing his thought as he began to exit. "Or a formidable enemy."

A month later, in an English orphanage, a teenage girl sat alone in an empty room reading when she heard a voice from the doorway. "Helena? You have a visitor." She looked up and saw Mother Superior, along with a tall man with an eyepatch standing behind her.

Something told her that nothing would be the same from this moment on.


End file.
